


Lost Lake

by TheMipstaz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Based on a Tumblr Post, Camping, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5066662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMipstaz/pseuds/TheMipstaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek still doesn’t know how he got roped into this, yet here he is—pinching the bridge of his nose as he listens to Stiles and Scott bicker over whether Stiles has been reading the map upside down the entire time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Lake

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this post](http://nevergooutofstiles.tumblr.com/post/131730077570/tardisrightsactivist-mchaleinski-wilderness) by [Raleigh](http://tardisrightsactivist.tumblr.com/).

Derek still doesn’t know how he got roped into this, yet here he is—pinching the bridge of his nose as he listens to Stiles and Scott bicker over whether Stiles has been reading the map upside down the entire time.

Oh yeah, that’s how he ended up in the middle of the woods without matches, a jacket, or even adequate map-reading skills; he has two ridiculous boyfriends.

Sighing, Derek trudges back to Scott’s old beat up van where they left it on the road. They were taking a quick break to stretch and swap drivers when Scott pointed out that they should’ve found the old Hale cabin by now. “It’s only, like, 3 hours away, Stiles. We’ve been driving for 5.”

Pulling open the trunk, Derek sits on the edge of the van, feet dangling idly as he looks out over the copse of trees. A pang of sadness hits him as he thinks about bringing Scott and Stiles to the place where he and his family spent so many summers. In all honesty, he’d completely forgotten about it until Scott had stumbled upon some pictures from the last time Derek had gone. Then it all came rushing back: dunking a squealing Cora in the lake, playing epic games of hide-and-go-seek with Peter, picking wildflowers with his younger cousins.

It was Stiles who suggested the three of them go. “We deserve a vacation,” he proclaimed, and that was that.

They dedicated the next couple days to getting their ducks in a row.

“Lydia, you’re in charge.”

“Is that any different from the usual, Stiles?”

“…Touché. Just don’t let Malia eat anymore squirrels. They upset her stomach. And, Mason, make sure Hayden and Liam are safe. We don’t need any baby werewolves running around any time soon. Scott, stop laughing. This is serious.”

“Gross, but okay.”

“Kira—”

“We’ll be fine, Stiles. Just go. You guys could use a little break.”

Scott’s, “Hey, you okay, man?” breaks Derek out of his reverie. Silhouetted against the soft sunlight, Derek can’t help but think he looks gorgeous wrapped in creamy gold.

Blinking, Derek shakes his head. “Yeah. Fine. Did you figure out where we’re going?”

A lopsided smile tugs at Scott’s mouth. “Sort of?” he offers. At Derek’s dry look, he hastily adds, “We’re working on it.” Plopping down in the space Derek makes for him, Scott leans into his side and easily slots into the familiar place under Derek’s arm. “Wanna tell me what you were thinking about?”

The reply comes easy even if it still hurts a little. “My family.”

“Yeah?” Scott rests his head on Derek’s shoulder, gazing out of the trunk to the wild ivy climbing up tree trunks and thick vegetation coloring the land.

“And the pack.”

“Think they’ll fall apart without their alpha?” teases Scott, affectionately rubbing his nose against Derek’s neck. The sweetness of the fresh air blends intoxicatingly with the heavy, rich scent of Derek and Scott feels contentedness wash over him.

“Not with Lydia to keep them in line.”

“True.”

They’re quiet for a time, watching the clouds creep by and listening to the breeze whisper.

Then, “I think I got it!”

Sharing a fond look, Derek’s a tad more exasperated than Scott’s sunny expression, the two of them abandon their brief moment of quietude in favor of Stiles’ loud energy and bright eyes.

 

So maybe spontaneous camping isn’t the worst idea Stiles has ever come up with, Scott reflects. He sips his mug of coffee, hiding a smile in it as he watches Stiles bitch to Derek about the biting morning air and yank the blanket around them snugger. The two of them can barely fit into the hammock, which wobbles precariously, as it is, but Scott is content to sit on the ground and watch the two men he’s in love with.

Scott pulls the sleeping bag around his own shoulders tighter; he may or may not have forgotten to bring a jacket in their haste to pack. The morning is nippy, but not unbearable, so he’s not too worried.

Besides, he has bigger problems.

“God damn it, Stiles, stop moving! We’re going to flip this fucking thing.”

“Me? You’re the one who keeps wiggling around, you filthy hypocrite!”

Under the pretense of getting more coffee, Scott gets up, sleeping back draping down his back like a cape. On his way back to the cabin, he passes the hammock and casually tips one side so both Stiles and Derek go tumbling to the ground in unison cries of, “Scott!”

Breaking into a run, Scott throws back his head in a helpless laugh. He’s tackled an instant later by Derek and they go rolling in the grass. Breathless, Scott ends up under Derek, who playfully growls at him. “Very funny, McCall.”

“Yeah, asshole,” Stiles catches up and sticks his tongue out.

The early light breaks over the treetops, illuminating Derek in pale yellow and setting Stiles’ eyes alight like molten amber. Dust motes flicker like fireflies, enrapturing Scott, who can’t help but surge upward for a heady kiss.

Derek’s sweet taste lingers on his tongue, Stiles heartbeat thuds clearly in his ears, and Scott wonders if this is what heaven feels like. Like Derek’s stubble rasping against his throat and Stiles’ quick fingers trailing fire along his side. Like Derek’s heavy-lidded eyes drowning him and Stiles’ hand tangled in his hair to pull him in for a searing kiss.

“So,” pants Stiles in between sloppy kisses, “I might have accidentally grabbed that squirting cum flavored lube that I got Derek for a gag gift instead of our usual. Who’s still in the mood?”

Derek’s forehead thuds against Scott’s collar as he groans, but Scott just gives in to the laugh he can feel bubbling up inside him.

So yeah, camping is definitely one of Stiles’ better ideas.

 

Their last day comes sooner than Stiles expects. He feels like he blinked and missed their entire getaway, when in reality they’ve been out here for a week already. He hugs the wet mass of black fur in his arms tighter.

From where he’s sprawled out over Stiles’ chest, Derek turns his snout to gaze at Stiles curiously. Stiles shakes his head and Derek flicks a pointed ear, eyes closing again to enjoy the sun his damp fur is soaking up.

A moist nose snuffles the back of Stiles’ neck, and Stiles turns to see an equally massive brown wolf whine at him with worried eyes.

“I’m fine, Scotty,” Stiles smiles weakly. “I just don’t want this to end.” He gestures to the lake shore they’re basking on, the smooth water dappled with cloud reflections and shadowed by forest.

Scott rumbles his agreement, resting his head on Stiles’ thigh, while Derek thumps his tail on the sand. The gritty grains stick to his fur where it’s still soaked with lake water.

“Here,” Stiles continues, eyes rising skyward, “it feels like nothing can touch us. No hunters, no school. Nothing but us.”

A moment later, Scott shakes off his fur in favor of human skin to add, “This place makes time feel like it stopped.”

“God,” Stiles says, getting to his feet, “we’re going to college this fall, Scott. We’re leaving.” And we might not be coming back.

Derek sits up as well, whimpering at the anxiety souring the air.

“We are,” concurs Scott determinedly to Stiles’ back, “but that won’t change anything between us. No matter where we end up, it’ll still be the 3 of us.”

And Stiles, he wants so badly for that to be true. But he can’t tell the future. Deaton likes to say that all a spark needs is belief, but Stiles isn’t sure if sheer conviction is enough to get him through this. For all he knows, Scott and Derek might break up with him tomorrow. Or the day after. Or the day after that.

Shrugging on his white shirt, Stiles ambles down to the water’s edge.

Derek makes to get to his feet, but Scott holds out a hand to stop him. “Wait” Scott murmurs, “let me.”

Hesitating, Derek relents and watches anxiously as Scott goes after Stiles.

Surveying the still water stretching before them, Stiles whispers, “How can you have so much faith? How are you not terrified of losing this, us?”

“Who says I’m not?”

Stiles scoffs. “You do a hell of a lot better of a job hiding it than me.”

“I think,” Scott twines his fingers with Stiles’, “losing your first love makes you realize that’s all the more reason to enjoy your second while you have it.”

His chest constricts painfully when he thinks about Allison, a lump forming in Stiles’ throat. He pushes past it, “So if we broke up tomorrow?”

“I’d be grateful for the time we had today.”

Something bumps against Stiles’ hip, and he looks down to find Derek standing on his other side. “Hey, sourwolf, you too, huh?”

Derek nods vigorously.

Scott squeezes Stiles’ hand and Stiles, he tries to be grateful for that moment where he has the loves of his life at his side and nothing seems impossible.


End file.
